


six sentence sunday/wip wednesday

by sanzuh



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dany T is in chapter 3, F/M, excerpts from WIPs, half-sibling incest in 5, incest kink in 4, so far E rating is just for chapters 4 and 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 5,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27190406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanzuh/pseuds/sanzuh
Summary: I decided it would be fun to publish these six sentence sunday and wip wednesday excerpts from Tumblr on here as well!35
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 64
Kudos: 157





	1. Wulvanferske

**Author's Note:**

> Header by @jonsa-creatives on Tumblr!

Jon narrowed his eyes, already feeling like half a fool for what he was about to ask. 

"When you say you're going to share a bed with them, does that mean you're going to bed them?"

She laughed. "What is it with you men? My second husband Theon asked me the exact same question. Nei, I'm not going to bed them!"

"Good!" he huffed.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Ja, good? You seemed intrigued by the idea."

"Well, ja, of course. The mental image of you with another woman is..." He tried to look for the right word, "tantalising," he decided. "But it's only the idea. I don't want you to bed anyone else, man or woman."


	2. with a whisper we shall tame the vicious seas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa is going to marry Harrion Karstark in a couple of days. Jon thinks she is making a mistake. Young, innocent Sansa, and older, slightly arrogant Jon.

Sansa straightens her shoulders. “He’s a good man, he takes care of his people. He’ll take care of me as well.”

His answering chuckle is soft. “Oh, I suppose he’ll never mistreat you. But I don’t think he’ll ever _take care_ of you the way I could.”

Sansa blushes at those words, though she’s not _quite_ sure what he means by them. Jon reaches out, cupping her cheek to thumb her lip. Its pad is rough against her sensitive skin.

“And he’ll never give you what you truly need.”

She gives him a defiant glare. “Is that so, my lord?”

He only offers her a lazy smirk in response. 

“And what do you believe I truly need, my lord?” she asks him sweetly.

“Love. You need to be loved. You deserve it, too. You deserve more love than most men could ever give you.”

She pulls her hand away from his. She knows what he’s not saying. He is telling her that _he could_ give her that love. She can’t allow herself to think about it, to imagine it, or she’ll be lost.


	3. now there's only love in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a snippet from a completely self-indulgent, extremely dark Jonsa fic I’m writing.

She tilted her head, studying her face. “You’re… novel,” she decided. “Men like shiny, new things, pet. But they grow tired of them so quickly.”

“Maybe he grew tired of you,” Dany suggested with a smirk.

Sansa’s answering smile was sweet, but as sharp and treacherous as a double-edged blade. She let out a peal of laughter and shook her head.

“No, pet. He’ll come back to me. I’ll have him begging on his knees for me soon enough. He could have a thousand pets like you and he’d still come back to me.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I came back for him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You wouldn’t.” She moved back and picked up her goblet, slowly sipping her wine.

“We both died, but I came back for him. My heart is cold and empty, you see, and so is his. On the inside, we’re still dead.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Jon’s not like that.”

Her only answer before she continued was a soft smile. 

“But when he touches me, when he fucks me,” she whispered, pausing to look at Dany, a smug kind of joy flashing in her eyes at the fury she could undoubtedly detect on Dany’s face. “When he’s inside me, I feel alive again. And it’s the same for him.”

She rose out of the bathtub, wrapping a towel around her body. She walked over to Dany’s side of the tub and leaned down over the edge.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, pet,” she murmured sweetly, patting her cheek. “It won’t be long.” It sounded like a threat.


	4. little sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa feels lonely, and she wants things from Jon she's afraid he won't be able to give her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R+L equals J, but there's incest kink

“You want me to love you?” He emphasizes the question with a deep, hard thrust.

She mewls. “Yes, I do.”

He captures her lips and groans into her mouth. “You’ve always been greedy for love, sweet sister.”

She nips at his lips and moans, canting her hips up. 

“So be honest with me, then,” he says, trailing kisses down her jaw. “What do you want from me?”

She tangles her fingers through his curls and tugs at them to look into his eyes. “I don’t understand.”


	5. i wanna feel you from the inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa have both scribbled down a note for the other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> half-sibling incest

_Sansa_

_I know you're my sister, but I can’t stop imagining burying my face in your cunt until you’re screaming my name, fucking you senseless until I spill inside you, and then finger fucking my seed into you until you’re completely covered in my mess._

_Jon_

_Jon_

_I know you're my brother, but every time you say my name, I want you to bend me over your desk and rip away my smallclothes to fill me up and fuck me so hard I won't be able to remember my own name._

_Sansa_


	6. Wulvanferske

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon is attacked by another Wulf

"I could smell you from miles away!" she snapped at him. "Why did you come here?"

He wasn't quite sure why. "I don't know, I was drawn here." He shook his head. "I hardly noticed where I was going."

She narrowed her eyes, as if she wanted to say " _I told you so, I told you it wasn't safe for you out here_ ," but she didn't say anything. She twisted her body around and pushed herself up onto all fours, her face contorting as she did so. Her shoulders rose and fell with a series of laboured breaths and then she lifted her head to meet his eyes. Her own were glowing. 

"Run, Jon," she told him. "Run!"

"You're hurt!" he tried to object, but there wasn't much he could do to help her. Why had he left his sword and other blades on his horse? His eyes flitted around the narrow clearing, looking for a bigger rock, one that was large enough to crush the other wolf's skull.

"It's just a scratch, Jeyne will be able to heal me. I'll hold her off so you can escape."


	7. with a whisper we shall tame the vicious seas

"My ship is ready,” Jon told Tormund. 

He'd seen enough of this world, had been indulging for too long in its empty pleasures. He wanted something else out of life now, though he wasn't quite sure what it was yet, except that it was waiting for him beyond the horizon, almost close enough to touch. 

It was time to return to the place he had once called home, and find himself again. He desired peace and steadiness, and he was hoping Winterfell could give him that, despite his reluctance and reservations.

He had missed Torrhen, or at least the boy he’d used to be. Would he welcome Jon back, or would he turn him away? _I’m still his cousin,_ he told himself, and Torrhen was the one who had mistreated him.

He looked away from Tormund to meet Val’s skeptical eyes. “I'm going home."


	8. Untitled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From an angsty upcoming one-shot.

Months later, when they're sailing back from King's Landing, after the world has ended in fire, and she's about to lose him again, she stands on the deck of the ship that's bringing them north, leaning on the railing, feeling his eyes on her as he approaches her.

She's carrying another secret now, and she knows it might be the only thing in the world that will make him stay with her. Yet, she is not sure she should tell him. She wants him to stay for her, not out of a sense of duty for a child that hasn't been born yet. For once, she would like someone to choose her. For once, she would like to be enough.


	9. Untitled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple more snippets from my upcoming, as of now still untitled angsty one-shot.

There is a rare beauty in their joining, but there's no tenderness or trace of delicacy to it, no gentle affection. It's the culmination of their raw, desperate need for each other; the grand finale of the dance that has had them tiptoeing around each other, pushing and pulling, since they reunited at Castle Black; it's the natural conclusion of every harsh word, every hiss and snap, every sweet, hungry glare. It's all they'll ever have, and it has them clinging to each other, reaching and grabbing, lips swollen and bloody, hands curled like claws.

🌹

She shoves her fist into her mouth, biting down in order to force herself to stop.

_No more,_ she tells herself, no more. _Don't you shed one more tear for him, Sansa Stark._

He's leaving her again. She needs to let him go. She couldn't make him stay before, she can't do it now.


	10. tale as old as time

The tall man looks lean under his heavy fur cloak, his lusterless brown hair is streaked with grey and his face is wind-burned and lined. The woman is short and stout, with grey hair. She's clad in ringmail and she has an axe on her hip. She studies Sansa and Brienne as they approach them, slapping her companion on the arm to get his attention.

"Where is the Lord Commander, lass?" the woman asks her directly. Sansa recognizes the bear on her jerkin now. "No one around here seems to know where he is."

"Lady Mormont," Sansa greets her. "There has been an attack," she explains to her and to the man she's identified as Lord Glover by the mailed fist pin holding his cloak together. "I'm afraid the Lord Commander has been incapacitated, and he's unable to meet with you at the moment."

"And who are you?" Lord Glover asks her. "His nursemaid?"


	11. need

“You don’t have enough money to pay rent, correct?”

She wants to deny it.

“Don’t lie to me, Sansa.” She shivers at the way he says her name. “I’ve already told you twice that I don’t really need the money. But there’s something else I need.”

Oh God, he’s going to ask her for sex instead of money. It’s not that she wouldn’t want to, but not like this.

He smiles. “Don’t worry, Sansa. I do want to fuck you, but, no, not like that.”

Sansa’s mouth falls open. “How…?

“You’re a smart woman, haven’t you figured it out?”


	12. need

His brow furrows. "The thrill of the hunt loses its appeal after so many years," he says slowly. "And it's not pleasant for the human. I can make them forget, but the memory remains, deep inside, it haunts them."

Sansa fiddles with her sleeve, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "But it wouldn't be like that if, if you bit me?" she can't help asking him.

"No." He shakes his head, his lips curling into--no, not really a smile. It makes him look smug, or as if he's in on a joke that she's unaware of. 

"If you agree," he says, meeting her eyes ,"if you're prepared, and relaxed, the experience could even be pleasant for you." He's still holding her gaze and she thinks his eyes have turned a couple of shades darker. There's something about them that makes her want to step closer to him, but she doesn't. She takes a step back and crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"So what you're saying is, I don't have to pay rent if I let you drink my blood?"


	13. tale as old as time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know today is not Wednesday or Sunday, but it's been a while, so here's a sneak peek at chapter 2 of _bittersweet and strange_

He takes it from her, staring at it with a furrowed brow. "Pretty," he mutters.

"Do you understand, Jon?"

He takes her hand, tracing her knuckles with his thumb, following the movement with his eyes. "Wolf-father lied. Not mine."

When he glances up at her, she nods. "But you had a wolf-mother."

His eyes drop to the cloth in his hand and mumbles: "Wolf-mother."

"She was brave and beautiful, and she loved you, Jon. So much."

"Dragon-father, bad man," he continues. She can't deny that. "Dragon bad, fire bad."

"It can be, but fire is also warm, like you, it protects against the cold." She cups his cheek and squeezes his fingers.


	14. tale as old as time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From part 9 of the series!

She is not a maid, but she doesn't have much experience with these matters either. She always let Harry take the lead during their short-lived marriage. Jon seemed eager enough earlier, and she's sure he still is, but she doesn't know if he's aware and knowledgeable enough to take charge of the situation in the way she's accustomed to.

There's something thrilling about her possibly having to be the one to take up that role in their marriage bed, but she would be lying if she tried to pretend it didn't frighten her as well. Jon wouldn't mock her, or think less of her if she did anything wrong, but the prospect still makes her anxious.

Suddenly, he's behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, and she feels a bit better almost immediately, though there's a sudden flurry of butterflies in her stomach.


	15. tale as old as time

_From chapter 3 of_ **_bittersweet and strange_ **

Sansa is not quite certain what Val means by that, but she is relieved anyway. She watches as Val rises to her feet and lifts Monster in the air, making him chortle, before she puts him down on the floor so he can explore the room. Val rises with her hands on her hips, smirking as she turns to face Sansa.

"Why are you asking?" she wants to know.

She shrugs. "No particular reason. I was just curious."

Val throws a glance at the child again. "I thought he was your brother?" she asks innocently.

She shouldn't share any of this with Val, but her cheeks are hot again and it's not as if she's giving away the real secret. "Well, no, not exactly, no."

"Don't worry," Val says after giving her a long, amused look. "The wolf man is all yours."


	16. clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time

"I gave you a second chance, the same chance I had been given, and you betrayed me again." Her nostrils flare and her voice is trembling with rage, her small hands are balled into fists. "You took _everything_ from me, so I'll keep taking away the one thing you care about, to punish you for what you did to me."

He snarls at her, his vision going red and his gums hurting from the desperate need to sink his fangs into flesh and rip.

"Aren't you getting bored of this conversation, Jon?" The indifference in her voice snaps him out of his fury. Calmly, she folds her hands in front of her stomach. "How many times have we had it before?"

He is not planning to humour her. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything anymore." She shrugs. "You took that as well. I'm stuck in this cycle as much as she is."

He doesn't need the air, but he takes a deep breath to steady himself anyway. "Then why don't you end it?"

"It doesn't work like that." She almost looks sad when she says it, but then her lips curl up into a cruel smile. "Tick-tock, Jon."


	17. tale as old as time

_From chapter 4 of_ **_bittersweet and strange_ **

When he pulls away to look at her, she smiles and melts into his embrace. The scent of her hair and her skin are so sweet and tempting, and holding her soft, naked body against his own is both bliss and torture. It’s hard to ignore the feeling of her cold breasts pressed up against his chest, and the way her puckered nipples brush his skin when she shifts.

A shiver runs down his own arms and spine, one that has nothing in common with the ones caused by the cold that is still affecting her. He gulps and squeezes his eyes shut, occupying his hands by rubbing her arms and back.

"Want look, want touch, so pretty," he confesses, startled by the rough sound of his own voice, "but no," he reassures her.

She trembles and jerks and suddenly he feels warm liquid trickling down his shoulder from the spot where she's buried her face.

"Oh no, no cry." He kisses the top of her head. "Safe, safe," he soothes her.

"I know," she whispers.


	18. clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time

He gives her a hard glare. This isn't the first time he's noticed that Sansa's stubbornness manifested itself in the form of a mildly rebellious streak in this life, though he is sure she hasn't always been like this. Just like it was the case with his Sansa, he suspects it's the result of years of being a good girl going unrewarded that has awoken this side of her. It thrills and worries him in equal measures. 

"You forget you still owe me _my fix_ when we get home. Your blood is quite delicious, and that crap would completely ruin the taste."

"Oh, and that is all there is to it? You're afraid I'd spoil _your_ enjoyment?"

"No," he admits. "That's not really it."

She laughs. "You're a vampire and you're going all "drugs are evil" on me?"

"Aye, I'm a vampire, and I've been around for a while. I've seen things." No need to tell her she died of an overdose only two lifetimes ago. 

"I was just curious," she says softly, her playfulness suddenly replaced by something heavier. She must have caught on to his mood then. He almost regrets not trying harder to conceal his emotions from her. Almost. He might be getting addicted to her genuine interest and gentle concern. 

"I know," he answers with a halfway decent attempt at a smile. He can feel the itch of nosiness reaching them from a mind about ten feet off to their right. "Your friend wants to talk to you," he tells her with a sharp jerk of his chin. 

She leaves him alone in his corner to greet and hug Margaery Tyrell. He can feel a large pair of deceptively innocent blue eyes watching him when she asks Sansa, "Who is the short king?"


	19. tale as old as time

"Do you remember me, my lord?" When Lady Alys puts a hand on his arm, Jon flinches and snaps his teeth at her.

"Jon," Sansa scolds him. "Please, be nice."

Jon lowers his eyes, but when he glances up again, he only offers Alys a foul glare. "No touch. Not Sansa."

Alys laughs, making Jon growl under his breath as he shuffles behind Sansa.


	20. claim

"Excuse me, I was under the impression I was not to be executed today!"

The Dragon King looks at her, his face exquisite but cruel. "This is not an execution. You are our prisoner, Princess of the Northern Kingdom. Your people rebelled against us. You are to be sacrificed to the dragon!"

A woman with dark hair and a long face steps forward, putting an hand on his arm. Sansa can barely contain her gasp. It can't be true, but Sansa is almost completely certain. Even though Aunt Lyanna had been taken many years ago, before Sansa was even born, she appears to be alive and well.

"Dragon Lord, you forget that there is another choice."


	21. question and answer

Jon snuffs out the candle on the side table next to their bed and Sansa smiles into her pillow. She should feel guilty about that indulgent moment of satisfaction. Jon needs the dark to be able to bear his shame over what they're about to do. But then again, he could stay away from their shared bed until sleep has taken her, or he could keep the candle burning just a little while longer. The fact that he doesn't, that he lets the darkness take over as soon as he's joined her, tells her he wants this as much as she does, even though he'll never be the one to make the first move.


	22. a wish my heart makes

Sansa inches back, blinking and spluttering. She tries to collect herself. "Forgive me, sir. You startled me! Have we met before?" Her heart is still racing. One moment, she was alone, and then he was suddenly there. "Where did you come from?"

He cocks his head and spreads his arms, palms turned up to the grey sky above them. "I'm here to give you your wish."

That's quite the promise, but it doesn't answer any of the questions she's asked him. Part of her wants to keep looking at the beautiful man in front of her, but some deep instinct is telling her to run. There is something very wrong about him, and yet she stands rooted to the spot, and she can't stop staring at him. "What do you mean? How?"

He arches a dark eyebrow. "You _are_ aware how babes are made, are you not?"


	23. break me like a promise

Though the ale still tasted foul on her tongue, it had given her courage. A fool's courage perhaps, but courage nonetheless.

She wasn't even sure what she'd say or do when she arrived at Jon's door. Would he still be awake? Would he let her in? What if _she_ was there?

Arya had said she'd seen her leave Jon's chambers in a rage less than an hour before, but perhaps she'd returned to reconcile after their quarrel. If she hadn't, Sansa knew this might be her chance. For what exactly, she didn't know, but perhaps she could finally make Jon see reason.


	24. lemon cakes & lethargy

"Sansa," he addresses her as he walks over to stand by the left side of the bed. A tray filled with a plate of lemon cakes and a jug of hippocras sits on the mattress next to her, and books are scattered all over the furs. 

"Is everything all right? Are you ill?" She looks perfectly fine to him, more than that, she looks radiant, all soft and relaxed as she lies there.

She picks up a couple of books and pats the space next to her. His eyes flit around the room, but they're alone. He climbs onto the bed and stares at her, waiting for an answer.

"I am perfectly fine, Jon," she tells him, taking his hand and squeezing it before she releases it again.

"Sansa, it's almost noon. Why are you still in bed, drinking and eating cakes, and reading books?" he adds, when he watches her pick up the book that was lying in her lap.


	25. just like the songs

There is one pair of eyes that has been watching him closely all evening though, and he can feel their blue ice burning into his back. He tries to be casual when he shifts to confirm his own suspicions, only to find Lady Stark glowering at him. Despite himself, Jon flinches and turns away from her glare, even though part of him is tempted to scowl right back and offer her a smirk in response. He empties his cup of wine and slams it down on the table, shoving his chair back and barely restraining himself from kicking it over.

It's a good thing he doesn't. He must have drunk more wine than he realized, as the floor is unsteady under his feet when he rises, and he has to grip the back of his chair to steady himself.


	26. happy birthday to me

Jon tossed his mask in the trash, washed his hands and put away the groceries. It was past noon, and Sansa was nowhere to be seen. It was her birthday today, so if this were any other year, he would assume she'd gone out with friends, but since there was no place she could have gone to, as everything was closed, her continued absence most definitely struck him as odd.

He walked over to her bedroom door and gave it a soft knock. "Sansa? You in there?" He got no response. "Sansa?" he called out a little louder.

"In here!" the answer came from behind him. He turned around and faced the bathroom door. "You can come in."


	27. the faerie prince

_This is still very rough, just bare dialogue, but I'm having fun daydreaming about faerie Jon and his Sansa, so I thought I'd share this anyway!_

"My half-sister will be Lord and King after my father."

"Don't you mean Lady and Queen?"

"King, Queen, it makes no difference, but no, she wouldn't be a Lady."

"Why not?"

"If you are Lord of something, that thing belongs to you, but to be Lady of something means you belong to it ."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"It only seems unfair because your language isn't adequate."

"How so?"

"Well, you are my Lord, Sansa. I am yours. I belong to you, which means that I am your Lady."

Sansa can't help but giggle.

"See? You laugh because the language isn't adequate."


	28. valentine fic

She huffs and giggles. "You need a bigger bed."

"I need more men and more resources," he rumbles into her shoulder.

"Must you discuss business while we're abed?" she asks him, sighing dramatically. "You're still inside me," she adds to emphasise her point.

He moves his weight off her just a tiny bit, slowly slipping out of her. He tilts his head up to offer her a lazy grin as he taps her lips with his index finger. "It's the only place I can get you to shut up and agree with anything I say."

She feigns a gasp and nips at his finger. "You afraid I won't give you what you want?"

"What I need," he corrects her.

"You know I'll give you anything you want." She brushes a stray curl from his temple. "Or need," she adds when she sees his raised eyebrow.


	29. valentine fic

As the song comes to an end, she starts leaning into his touch. It's a natural thing, a move made without conscious thought, and Jon's body is already responding to hers. He wants to let her curl into him, settle against his chest so they can both feel that relief of closeness. He'll wrap his arms around her and bury his nose in her hair, breathing in her scent. They haven't been alone yet since he arrived, and the desire for closeness is overwhelming the both of them. He wants to pull her close and pretend they're all alone, with no one else around, the only two people left in the world, but they are not, and they can't.

Unsurprisingly, Sansa is the first to pull herself together.

"Thank you for the dance, my lord."


	30. with a whisper we shall tame the vicious seas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found myself daydreaming about this fic today...

Sansa cuddled up to him, resting her cheek on his chest. “So this is how it’s supposed to be.”

“Aye, you and me,” Jon rumbled, pulling her closer as he pressed his lips to her temple. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Sansa giggled, hiding her face against his chest as a blush rose to her cheeks. That was not what she’d meant, but she felt the same, and she was glad he’d been the first one to say it. She decided she could be brave as well, and tell him the words they’d never spoken to each other before.

“I love you, Jon.”

His thumb was on her chin then, and his finger curled under it to make her look up at him. “I love you, Sansa. I’ve been yours for the last eight years, and I promise I will make you mine.”

Sansa believed him in that moment, and she pushed down that edge of doubt in her mind. She didn’t doubt him, never him, but she couldn’t trust Torrhen.


	31. tale as old as time

"A girl is ready for a task of great importance," the kindly man says when the girl enters the room. She comes to a halt and folds her hands behind her back. 

"A girl is ready to serve."

The man gives her a long, hard stare. "Two names have been whispered in the Many-Faced God's ear, two names belonging to those who are to receive his gift.”

"What are the names?"

"Daenerys Targaryen. And Sansa Stark." The tilt of the man's head is almost imperceptible, but the girl hasn't missed it. She doesn't let her face or her body betray that she's noticed.

"Valar morghulis," she says, careful to keep any hint of inflection from seeping into her voice.

He gives her a satisfied nod. "Valar dohaeris."


	32. tale as old as time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m posting this one a day early, as I will probably finish and post the next chapter of _and i’ll be your safety, you’ll be my lady_ tomorrow.

"Feel magic?" he asks again.

And suddenly, she can. "Yes, it's like vibrations, or a current in the air."

He offers her a radiant grin. "Close eyes. Reach out."

She's frowning, focusing, trying, but nothing is happening.

"Breathe," Jon reminds her.

She inhales, and exhales, and her consciousness leaves her with her breath. She can sense all the creatures around them, both humans and animals, and then she is soaring high above it all. She is no longer Sansa, nor the snowy owl who's carrying her on its wings. She's neither and both. 

She feels a sharp prick at the edge of her mind, but then she recognizes Jon, and she can feel him squeezing her hands, calling her back. 

"No bird now. Ghost," he tells her when she opens her eyes to meet his. 


	33. and there would be no grand choirs to sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From my fic for the Jonsa Valentine Event

Sansa is awake, and she is not moving away, but she isn't speaking either. Jon will consider it a blessing. He doesn't want this moment to end yet. 

Last night was a mistake. He can't bring himself to regret it, but he still believes he shouldn't have. He shouldn't have stayed for her coronation. He shouldn't have lingered so long at the feast. He shouldn't have danced with her, holding her so close. He shouldn't have accepted that last cup of wine. He shouldn't have offered to escort her back to her chambers when she tried to hide a yawn behind her hand.

But he had. And he had followed her over the threshold when she held the door open with a question in her eyes. Another mistake, but not a regret. He shouldn't have, because he always meant to leave, and now she must be expecting him to stay.

He knows there are things she's been meaning to ask him, offer him, but he can't accept them. And now he's given her reason to believe that he might. 

Will he ever be able to look at her face without loving her, without his heart roaring out in pain, crippling him? He would stay for her, but she’s also part of the reason why he’s leaving. He needs to do this, for himself, but he doesn’t want to be a burden to her either.


	34. and there would be no grand choirs to sing

The choice is yours, Jon. Will you keep wallowing in all that past suffering? Will you keep punishing yourself? Or will you finally start looking forward? Will you finally allow yourself to look for the happiness you don't believe you deserve? I hope you will choose the second option, because I believe, in my heart of hearts, that you deserve everything, you deserve to be happy.


	35. and there would be no grand choirs to sing

"I think I'm ready now."

He looks at her, not understanding.

She takes a deep breath. "I'd like to have a babe. Winterfell needs an heir, and I've always wanted children. I think I'm ready now."

He pulls his chair back and sits down, rubbing his beard before he meets her eyes. "So this is goodbye then?"

That's the last answer she expected of him, one she didn't even expect at all. "What? No, of course not."

He shakes his head, a bitter smile tugging up his lips. "Even as Queen, I don't think you'll be able to find a husband who'll agree to you keeping me around as your paramour.” He spits out the last word. “And I don't think I could do it."

"A husband?" she utters, baffled.

He looks at her as if he's wondering whether she's lost her wits. "Well, how else were you planning to get children?"


End file.
